


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by happyevraftr



Series: Love In Strange Places [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Dubious Consent, Ghost Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, young!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyevraftr/pseuds/happyevraftr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia knows Peter’s going to leave her eventually. He has bigger and better things to move on to. But he can’t come back without her, so it’s going to be on her time and her terms; after she gets what she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Author's Note:**

> 2/5 of TW mini!bang stories
> 
> Wonderful art by smalfoyblack. Art masterpost can be found [here.]()

He’s always there. Fleeting around the edges of her consciousness. Around every corner and in every shadow. She knows who he is now,  _what_  he is. Perhaps she should be scared, but she can’t stop thinking about him. Can’t stop daydreaming over the press of his soft lips against her own. All she wants is to feel the phantom press of their skin together.  
  
He’s been avoiding her of late, but on the rare occasion he decides to grace her with his presence, his bright blue eyes sear into hers. All other thoughts immediately quiet and the world slows down until they’re the only people in the room.  
  
There’s something exhilarating about his non-existence. Only she can see him, feel him, touch him, and that deeply satisfies the side of her that needs control.  
  
She knows he’s going to leave her eventually. He has bigger and better things to move on to. But he can’t come back without her, so it’s going to be on her time and her terms; after she gets what she wants out of this. It’s the least he can do for her after all. It’s not like this whole haunting thing hasn’t done a number on her psyche.  
  
Three nights after discovering who he is and what he wants, Lydia waits for him in her room. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed when he abruptly materializes in front of her. His sudden appearance doesn’t scare her anymore. He doesn’t scare her.  
  
He’s taken on his young form this time, which makes her happy. Besides when he tries to startle her with his charred face, he’s always handsome; but she likes him best this way. Stark black hair contrasts with his pale white skin, making his brilliant blue eyes even more prominent. He’s wearing a tight grey t-shirt and snug jeans that don’t leave much room for the imagination. The sight of him makes her mouth water and insides dance.  
  
There’s no need for them to talk. He knows what she wants.  
  
Slowly, she stands and holds his eyes as she pulls one sleeve of her vintage flower print dress over her shoulder, and then the other. Once both arms are out she lets the dress fall to the floor, exposing her naked body to his hungry gaze. She refuses to feel vulnerable standing before him. She refuses to be weak in his eyes. Tonight she’ll take what she wants.  
  
Without hesitation he steps forward and bends down to capture one of her rosy nipples between his teeth. She sighs and leans into the touch, running her fingers through his hair. The dark locks are soft in her hands and she tugs on them to bring his face closer, to demand more.  
  
He suckles at her nipple, taking the time to swirl his tongue around the tight bud and nibble on it a little. She can already feel herself wet from his touch, sex throbbing with the need to be filled. Her free arm wanders behind her head, pulling her hair up off her neck as she arches her back up into his touch.  
  
There’s a sharp edge to everything he does. Power emanates from him; cool confidence in each and every movement. He’s dangerous and that thrills her. She’s not entirely delusional, she knows he holds all the cards in this little power play of theirs. It doesn’t matter though. Even the brief illusion of having control of this crazy man gives her an adrenaline high. He’s a drug she can’t get away from: needing another hit of him more than she needs to breathe.  
  
She harshly tugs at his hair and directs him over to her other nipple. This time he teases her, tongue circling around the taught bud but not actually giving her the attention she needs.  
  
“More,” she demands, the first word spoken of the evening, breaking through the still night air and resounding in her otherwise quiet room.  
  
Her request is denied, which irritates her. She pulls and tugs until he finally gives her something. Two fingers slip in-between her damp folds and begin to stroke her softly. She knows he’s being stubborn, doing things how he wants to, but she lets it slip; too lost in the feeling of his long fingers teasing her clit.  
  
“Mmm,” she moans and lets her hand drop from his head to his shoulder, steadying herself against the continous waves of pleasure racking her body. He’s teasing, but it feels amazing. If they had the time and he had the patience, she would let him do this to her all day.  
  
With a loud ‘pop’ he releases her nipple and sinks down to his knees. She leans back, letting her knees hit the edge of the bed.  
  
“So wet for me,” he murmurs as he dives forward and buries his face in her sex. He runs his tongue along her slit and her legs nearly buckle. Strong hands grip her thighs and she lets him hold her still as he laps at her clit. When he takes it between his teeth and sucks she absolutely loses it, coming all over his tongue.  
  
Abruptly she’s thrown back onto the bed, shocked by the sudden movement. Peter is smirking at her coyly. His bright blue eyes sparkle with hidden secrets and dimples indent the side of his cheeks. He’s devilishly handsome and everything she should never want.  
  
She watches as he slowly undresses. First he grabs the hem of his too-tight t-shirt and drags it up over his head. He tosses the shirt somewhere, but Lydia doesn’t see where; she’s too distracted by the sight of his lean muscles and chiseled abs.  
  
Scooting to the end of the bed, she unbuttons his jeans and helps pull them down. His cock springs up and she immediately pulls the head in-between her lips and sucks hard. He moans and lets his head fall back, pushing forward just a little. Just enough for her to feel him at the back of her throat. He’s heavy on her tongue and the taste is bitter, but it’s like her own personal heaven. Or maybe it’s her personal hell. All she knows is wants more of him, to take all of him.  
  
She puts her hands behind her back and relaxes her jaw, inviting him in. His eyes go wide for a second and she relishes the fact she’s able to surprise him. It’s no small achievement.  
  
He places both hands on the back of her head and pulls her forward until her nose brushes against the base of his cock. The coarse hair tickles her face and she gags over his length. It’s too much but she takes it anyways. He starts to gently fuck her mouth, letting her find a rhythm to breathe.  
  
The deep thrusts strip her throat raw and forces unbidden tears to roll down her face. It’s what she wants though. Closing her eyes, she lets herself get lost in the moment, lost in the tidal wave that is simply him.  
  
Just when she thinks she can’t take anymore he pulls away and bends down to give her a sloppy kiss; surely tasting himself on her lips.  
  
He pushes her back into the bed and crawls on top of her. As he sinks inside her wet heat tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She knows this is wrong, but she needs it. Needs to take everything he has to give before giving him what he wants. She needs to know this is  _real_.  
  
He doesn’t sugar coat anything. No words of affection, no endearments or soft touches. He digs his fingers into her hips and pulls her into him as he thrusts forward. He’s long and thick inside her and for a brief moment she feels her psyche break. Panics at the thought this may just be a dream.  
  
In desperation she reaches for purchase on his hips and digs in. “Fuck me,” she demands. “Hard.”  
  
He smirks at her but doesn’t say anything. Giving her what she wants he pulls back and pushes into her forcefully. She moans and drops her head onto the bed, letting his steady thrusts glue her back together piece by piece.  
  


 

  
  
There’s not a single place he doesn’t touch within her, caressing her tight walls with his hard flesh. As her eyes drift shut she accepts this as reality. Lets him take her away with him, gives him whatever is left of her battered mind. Surrenders.  
  
A low whine of approval sounds above her as Peter bends down to hover over her overheated body, arms bracketing her face.  
  
“That’s it love,” he whispers softly in her ear. The sweet tone betrays his manipulative motives. He’s not fooling her though, she knows the kind of non-existent heart he has beating in his chest. It’s black and twisted with years of anger and betrayal. It should bother her, maybe even terrify her a little, but it doesn’t. There’s a part of her that’s dark too- lonely, broken and needy, and it calls to him.  
  
“I want to see you,” he mutters before pulling out and flipping them over.  
  
The sudden movement renders her frozen for a minute before instincts take over and she slides down on him; gasping as he reaches new depths. It’s overwhelming and bordering on painful, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Tossing her head back and forth, she gets her hair to fall behind her shoulders and out of the way. She runs a hand up his chest as she arches her back and gives him a good view. She knows she’s beautiful. He must think so too by the way his eyes devour her body and hips jerk uncontrollably.  
  
Her pert breasts bounce as she rocks against him, nipples standing at attention. With every circle of her hips her clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making her movements stutter and skin tremble with lust.  
  
When his thumb presses harshly against her swollen nub she unravels above him, coming with a silent scream; mouth open, but no sound able to escape her lungs. Lydia collapses on top of him, shaking through her orgasm. Using his supernatural strength he flips them over and lets her relax into the bliss of her release as he continues to pound into her constricting heat.  
  
After consciousness returns she lifts her heavy legs up and around his back and pulls him closer. He leans down and sucks at her collarbone until the skin worries with irritation, then soothes the mark with his tongue.  
  
 _‘I’m not crazy’_ she repeats to herself as a mantra, burying her nails into the flesh at his hips with every strong thrust. She lets him anchor her down, pull away the dense fog that seems to constantly be surrounding her anymore.  
  
He thrusts into her two more times before shoving in deep and emptying everything inside her. Hot come spreads along her walls and pulls the rest of her broken mind together; cementing the pieces in place. She inhales sharply and feels the grim clarity of reality overcome her.  
  
Her chest tightens and moisture wets her eyes as the gravity of what she’s just done settles.  
  
Peter pulls out of her and rolls over to her side. The worse part of it all is that she already misses the feel of him inside her. Already craves to have him back. She should be concerned about turning a psychopath free into the world, but all she can think about is if he’ll ever come back to her. She’s afraid her fragile world will come tumbling down when he’s no longer sharing it with her.  
  
“Tomorrow,” he says quietly. A single finger brushes away the tear that’s tracing her cheek.  
  
She nods in quiet assent. He gave her what she wanted. She will keep her end of their unspoken agreement and set him free.  
  
When she opens her eyes and looks over he’s gone. A soft sob escapes her already sore throat and the emptiness inside her grows a little bigger.  
  
She’s sold her soul to the devil.

 

  
**END**   



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